


Truth and Shadows

by f_lame_alchemist



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Promised Day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-09 22:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18647767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/f_lame_alchemist/pseuds/f_lame_alchemist
Summary: When Ed begins receiving anonymous threats, he doesn't want Roy to worry. However, the keeping of that kind of secret could very well tear him and Roy apart, never mind the danger he might be in.





	1. Chapter 1

_ Day 1 _

Edward Elric woke up slowly, to the warm feeling of sun on his body and the smell of coffee brewing nearby. His face was firmly pressed into a pillow, so that it felt like losing a part of his head when he rolled over. A sheet had wound itself up his real leg, and he was sprawled across the mattress as though he had fallen from the sky and landed that way. Eyes still closed, he groped around on the bed next to him, but he didn’t find what he was looking for.

“Ed.” Roy Mustang’s voice was far too loud for this time of day, and he was distinctly not in bed as Ed had expected him to be.

Ed made some sort of noise in response, a kind of “mmmmph” sound, and threw his arm over his eyes.

“Edward, get up.” Roy was trying to sound strict, but Ed could hear the laughter he was hiding.

“Noooo,” Ed tried to pull the sheets over his head, but they were ripped off by hands which were much stronger and more determined than Ed was able to be this early in the morning. In the absence of blankets, he curled up into a ball to protect the last remaining warmth and hopefully to make it clear that he was  _ not moving _ . The day could wait until he was ready.

The mattress groaned and Ed bounced in the air a little bit as Roy threw himself down onto the bed. “I got eggs. Will you do that egg thing again?” 

Ed didn’t exactly consider himself to be a culinary expert, but years of studying alchemy had given him some surprisingly good cooking skills: combine these ingredients this way, add or subtract ingredients to change the result, and so on. Alchemy began in the kitchen, or so the old adage went.

Truth be told, Ed missed alchemy. He was glad that everything had worked out the way it had, but giving up alchemy had been, to say the least, difficult. Not being able to transmute had been like losing a part of himself - that was the whole point. However, the next best thing was cooking, and he was pretty damn good at it, as Roy had said once or twice. Not that Roy knew shit about food.

After a minute or two, Ed sighed deeply, rolled off the bed, and landed on the floor. He stood up and raised his arms above his head, leaning first to one side and then the other. Roy was admiring the part of his stomach exposed by the stretch as the t-shirt was lifted up. 

Ed chuckled. “Don’t even think about it, you need to go to work soon. I thought you wanted omelettes, anyways.” Roy remained where he was, propping himself up on one elbow. “Your coffee is gonna get cold.”

“Do I want a well-rounded meal, or sex?” Roy raised an eyebrow at Ed, who already knew the answer.

\--

A time later, Roy was frantically trying to get out the door. Ed handed him his shoes and stuffed some change in his pocket. “Get somethin’ to eat on the way.”

Roy sipped his coffee and cringed. “It’s cold.”

Ed took it from him. “Buy one with breakfast.  _ Leave _ , you’re gonna be late.” A quick kiss, and Roy was gone.

Just because Roy wasn’t going to be there to eat them, didn’t mean Ed wasn’t excited for omelettes himself. He poured the cold coffee down the sink, and was taking the eggs out of the fridge when the mail arrived. He set the stack of letters down on the table and resumed cooking.

The eggs weren’t Ed’s best work, but maybe he’d try again tomorrow. He pushed the plate aside and sifted through the mail. Mostly spam, as per usual, and a couple of other familiar things: a postcard from Al, an invoice from Pinako for his most recent automail adjustment (accompanied by a letter from Winry filled with threats about what might happen if his leg were to break again), correspondence from potential employers. 

At the bottom of the pile was a plain envelope which Ed found to be strange. There was no return address, and Ed and Roy’s address was glued on, with the letters cut from what appeared to be newspapers. It was addressed to Ed.

_ Weird _ , Ed thought, turning the envelope over in his hands. A chill made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. 

\--

( _ Elsewhere in the city, a man sat in a room lined with filing cabinets, records that were supposed to be destroyed. The man was believed to have been destroyed too, so his use of the records was fitting.  _

_ Meticulously, he cut letters out of yesterday’s  _ Central Times _. It featured a bold front-page headline about Promised Day reconstruction in the districts which had been damaged. Crews wouldn’t make their way to the parts that were really desperate for a while, though.  _

_ Bureaucracy and work safety laws both ensured that much of the destruction would not be addressed for a few more months, though it had already been a long time. _

_ He adjusted his glove as he worked, pasting the letters to the front of an envelope.) _

\--

The envelope in Ed’s had was suspicious at best, the cut-out letters revealing little about the sender.

As a spur-of-the-moment decision, he put the envelope down and stood up, rummaging under the sink for a pair of rubber gloves and a sealable bag so that he would be able to get the thing analyzed later at a lab. 

\--

He  _ needed _ to find out who sent this. Inside the envelope, which he had opened carefully enough that it could be resealed again if need be, were two pieces of paper. One, a note formed of more cut-out letters. The other, which Ed looked at first, was bad. Very bad. Familiar lines and writings on the page filled a circle Ed recognized all too well. 

It was something from the darkest places in his head, the most repressed of his memories, where his thoughts now only wandered when he slept. Ed almost dropped the paper, struck by an intense feeling of dread.

He stared at the drawing for a very long time. He hadn’t so much as thought about it in years, but he hated the way his mind was working now: What did this person know? Did they send it because they had another theory? Would it work?

He realized the other, more drastic implications as well. Nobody should have seen this. Nobody  _ could _ have, and yet here it was. He slipped it into the bag and picked up the letter. When he looked down, Ed realized his hands were shaking.

_ Elric _ , the letter read,  _ your attempts at human transmutation are only the beginning of your sins, including those against me. The time has come for retribution.  _ There was no name at the bottom.

Ed removed the gloves carefully, folding them exactly as they had been before and returning them to their storage under the sink. He wouldn’t bring this to the lab. That would mean involving the military, and that was something he couldn’t do.

_ What about Roy _ , said a voice in his head, one he suspected was right,  _ he’s in a better position to deal with this. _ Ed considered it only for a second before deciding to keep the threat a secret. He would get to the bottom of this on his own, and nobody would have to worry. There was a shoebox in the bottom of the closet, and Ed threw away the old holiday cards which had been stored inside, replacing them with the letter, sealed in the bag. He carefully covered the box with some boots and a jacket.

Attempting to shake off the deepening pit in his gut, Ed pulled on his coat and looked around for his wallet.  _ Keep moving. _ The job search was an ongoing process; he had left the military almost immediately after the Promised Day.  _ One thing at a time.  _ He would get to the bottom of this.

A life as a soldier was not for Ed, and he had really only enlisted in the first place for alchemic research. Without alchemy, it was pointless. Another bonus was that now he and Roy didn’t have to deal with fraternization policy. 

So instead, he was applying for internships at various laboratories and research institutes in Central. He had to start somewhere, and at least he was highly qualified.  _ One letter means nothing _ . Ed made doubly sure he bolted the door on the way out.


	2. Chapter 2

_ Day 2 _

The first letter had arrived on Monday. Tuesday, on his way home from what he considered to be a successful interview, Ed picked up the basics for a lab test at home: powder to test for fingerprints, a magnifying glass, a UV light to check the envelope seal for saliva. 

He didn’t know what he would have done if he had found anything that needed further analysis. Maybe call in a favor with one of Roy’s staff? Fuery would be a good candidate, Ed had been thinking. 

However, no follow-up was necessary. It was all clean: the sender had worn gloves, had left no skin cells or hair on the letters or in the envelope, and had sealed it with something other than his tongue. 

On that point Ed hardly blamed him: lick-to-seal envelopes tasted even worse than milk.  _ Damn.  _ At this point he stopped wearing gloves and sealing the letters in bags. 

\--

Letters arrived not quite every day, but often.

If Roy noticed something was wrong, he didn’t say anything. Life in the apartment was good, and if Ed was a bit distracted, well, he was just thinking about the job search. Roy understood.

Ed’s heart did sink a little bit every time Roy opened the closet door, though. “Hey Ed,” Roy had said at one point, “is this yours or mine? I like it.” He held up a black leather jacket with a silver zipper. Ed immediately recognized it as the one that was covering the box, and felt his stomach twist in knots. However, all Roy did was try the thing on in front of a mirror and pose a few times before shrugging it off and saying “it must be yours, it’s too small for me.” He threw it at Ed.

“Hey! Quit callin’ me short,” Ed protested, recognizing the joke after a brief hesitation. The night continued without incident. 

\--

_ Day 7 _

Ed hated this. Hated it, hated it,  _ hated  _ it _.  _ He was kicking the leg of the sofa after Roy left cheerfully for another day of work. The letters kept coming, Ed kept lying, Roy kept living in ignorance. The guilt was eating Ed up alive. Another letter had arrived that morning, making it a week since the first one. The total was four, each a display of powerful knowledge about Ed’s and Roy’s lives that nobody should have known, or could have. Each enough to ruin both of them, forever.

He packed his things angrily, getting ready for a follow-up interview that morning. A job he had applied for at a research institute, investigating the long-term health effects of alchemy, was in the bag, as far as he was concerned, as long as he didn’t fuck up today. He was the most highly qualified person for the position and was trying to make that apparent. Plus, the pay was pretty good. 

Roy had kissed him on the way out the door, “for good luck.” At least something about that day was in his favor. 

He pulled on his tie to loosen it a bit. A  _ tie _ , he thought to himself, almost laughing. He looked in the mirror, and a very professional adult looked back at him. Maybe it was a good thing he had let Roy dress him for the interview. 

Ed shouldered his work bag and walked out the door. The letter which had arrived that morning could wait. It was tucked into a corner in the bag, out of sight. Not out of mind.

Paranoia struck first once he got into a cab to bring him to the laboratory. He gave the driver the address and looked out the back. Was that car following him? What about the bicyclist that passed them at the light? The tourist with the camera?

He leaned forward. “Hey, any chance we can go a bit faster?” The car was still behind them.

“You late or somethin’?”

“Uh, n- yes. Yeah, I’m late for a meeting.” Ed pushed the knot a bit further up Roy’s tie. 

“Alright, but if we get pulled over you’re paying for the ticket.”

“Fine with me.” The letter was practically burning a hole in Ed’s bag, and he was wishing more and more that he had left it and his problems in the apartment.

When they stopped outside the building, Ed handed the man some extra cash, thanking him for the trouble. The car from behind them had taken a different turn two blocks before the building, and Ed had gotten a look at a mother and two kids inside.  _ Better safe _ , he thought. His heart was still beating, though. What if one of the people on the sidewalk was the stalker? A car that drove by? Was he in danger? He forced himself to walk calmly to the building and open the door.

“Can I help you?” The receptionist nearly made him jump out of his skin.

“Yes,” he said after a pause, “I’m Edward Elric, here for an interview?”

“We’ll be right with you.” 

Ed had barely taken a seat when a woman walked up to him. “Hi, Mr. Elric, I’m Maria. We’ve been in touch for the interview?” 

“Call me Ed.” He stood up, shaking her hand. He had hoped for more time to get over the jumpiness he had felt in the car. His hand practically vibrated, but maybe it wasn’t noticeable.

Maria noticed. “Are you nervous?”

Ed smiled. “It seems so,” he remarked jokingly. There were no signs of stress in his voice, at least; Roy always said Ed could be charming when he tried. Maria smiled back, and they stepped into her office for the interview.

\--

Ed left the laboratory feeling much better than when he had entered. He even let the cab driver go the speed limit, and stopped at the market to pick up some essentials. The panic was gone, it seemed as though he had relaxed.  _ It was silly, _ he told himself,  _ nothing will happen. I can handle this. _ For a second, he even believed it. 

_ (A camera shutter clicked in the distance, though Edward Elric didn’t notice.) _

When he arrived home, the door swung open and Roy was there. “Groceries, huh? The interview went well?”

Ed didn’t have time to answer. Roy seized him by his tie and pulled him inside, drawing him into a kiss. Ed’s arms hung at his sides, weighted down by the grocery bags, but he figured things could certainly be worse.

“MmmmmphRoy,” Ed tried to say, pulling away eventually, “groceries.”

“Couldn’t help it. You look too good in a suit.”

“And whose fault is it that I’m wearing one?” Ed set the groceries down and shrugged off his work bag.

“That’s fair.”

Roy helped with the food and then pulled at Ed’s jacket, trying to get it off his shoulders. The tie was next. Not unwanted attention, but it was 12:30 in the afternoon. “Don’t you have work?”

“I’d rather be here. You seem so stressed, Ed, I want you to be happy.”

So Roy  _ had  _ noticed.  _ Fuck.  _ “Go to work, you sap, I’m fine. Nailed the interview and everything.” That letter was still tucked away in Ed’s work bag.

“Fine. It’s hard to resist you looking like this, but I  _ guess _ I’ll just go back to the office and-” Ed kissed him. For at least a minute, all was well in the world. There was food in the fridge, afternoon light pooled at their feet and shone through the dust in the air, and Roy had that smell Ed was so fond of, a kind of deep cinnamony musk, which to Ed smelled kind of like home. He was safe.

The fact still remained that Roy was ditching work. Ed eventually pushed him to the door, not wanting to see him go but knowing he needed to. “Come home early if you can. I’ll make something good for dinner.”

Roy tried to grab Ed for another kiss but Ed warded him away, wielding a spatula threateningly. They both had things to do. “I’ll be home in five hours, tops. What else can you do with that spatula?” He raised one eyebrow and smirked.

“ _ Out. _ ” 

Ed sat down at the kitchen table when the door had closed behind Roy, finishing the job of removing the tie. He would have to be more careful, if Roy had known he was stressed. For a second, he considered telling his boyfriend what was going on. Only for a second. It was safer this way.  _ Right?  _ He opened his work bag and took out the letter.


	3. Chapter 3

_ Day 15 _

_ Ed was at work. He was doing something in the lab- what was he doing? It didn’t matter. Someone was watching. Everything had eyes, ears, knowledge. Something moved behind him, in the dark where the lights didn’t reach, and he turned around slowly, ready to face what it was. But Roy,  _ Roy-

\--

Someone was yelling, and Ed realized it was him. “Roy!” He sat straight up, panting, his hair stuck to his face with sweat. Sheets clung to his chest. He felt sick, or nervous, or maybe scared.

“Edward?  _ Ed,  _ what’s going on?” Roy looked visibly startled, with his hand on the gun on his nightstand. The clock beside him read 3:48 AM. 

“I...ah, bad dream.” Ed pushed hair out of his eyes with his palms. “Go back to sleep, I’m fine.”

“Ed…” Roy put a hand on Ed’s shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, Roy, go back to sleep.” Ed looked down at his hands.  _ Stop shaking. _

Roy took the other hand off his gun and wrapped it around Ed, pulling him back down. He soon started snoring, holding Ed protectively in his arms. Ed stared at the wall, practically unblinking, and didn’t sleep for a very long time.

\--

_ Day 16 _

Ed pushed food around on his plate with his fork. Greyed and overcooked peas rolled towards what appeared to be some kind of meat, none of which he intended to eat. He felt listless, not hungry.

“Ed. I know I’m not the best cook, but you usually at least pretend.”

“I’m fine, Roy.” 

“So you’ve said.”

Ed sighed. “Just a bit stressed is all, it’s hard starting a new job.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.” 

Dinner continued quietly. The dishes were done in silence, and after the meal they watched tv wordlessly, sitting on the couch with Roy under a blanket and Ed pretending not to be cold. It was clear that something had changed, and discontentment sat heavily in the apartment. 

\--

_ Day 17 _

Roy got up first in the morning, as usual, but he didn’t need to force Ed out of bed. In contrast, Ed’s movements were almost mechanical as he pushed off the covers and got dressed slowly and methodically. Roy looked apologetic, but for what Ed had no idea. Breakfast consisted of burnt toast and juice, one of Roy’s culinary masterpieces. Another letter showed up.

The letter was very simple. “ _ Something bothering you, Elric? _ ”

This was getting ridiculous. Ed forced himself to finish eating and decided to walk to the lab. What did the letter mean? Was this person somehow aware that Ed and Roy had been having trouble? He had to get to the bottom of this before it destroyed their relationship.

\--

“Something bothering you, Sir?”

Roy tried to refocus his eyes on the person in front of him, rather than at the wall he had been staring at blankly. “Nothing at all.”

Hawkeye frowned. “I know you get distracted, Sir, but lately you’ve been even more spacey than usual.”

“Is spacey the technical term?”

“Hate to interrupt, Colonel Mustang, but I’m with Hawkeye on this one. Spacey. What’s goin’ on?” Breda was talking around some kind of food, as per usual, and crumbs sprayed his paperwork as he spoke. It was hard to watch.

“Is something up with you and Ed?” Fuery joined the discussion. All of Roy’s company seemed to be invested in Roy’s romantic life. Falman, who wasn’t usually all that interested in relationships, was even paying attention.

“Nothing is going on, you should all return to your work.”

Hawkeye stayed where she was. “Roy, if something is happening that affects your ability to work, we need to know.” Roy wasn’t in the mood to correct her for being so informal. He needed friends.

Hearing Riza speak to Roy using his first name was a cue for his subordinates to pull their chairs up to his desk and stare expectantly at the both of them.

“It’s just…” Roy sighed. “Something is going on that Ed isn’t telling me.” He hated this touchy-feely shit, but his coworkers did have a deep interest in his and Ed’s relationship, and knew both of them well. Nobody better to go to for advice.

“Wait, hang on. Hold that thought,” Breda pulled Roy’s phone towards him and punched in a number. It rang twice.

“Havoc General Store, for all your general needs, this is Jean speaking,” stated the man who picked up.

Roy’s forehead fell into his hands. This was turning into some kind of ordeal that it didn’t need to be.

“Havoc, hey, it’s Breda. We’re all sitting around Mustang’s desk and he’s about to tell us about something that’s going on at home with him and Ed. You’re on speaker.”

“Oh thank  _ god _ you called, I was wondering how they were doing. And Roy, I know how much you love to talk about your personal life.” Roy groaned.

“Is he cheating on y-  _ ouch _ ,” Fuery grimaced. It seemed as though Breda had stomped on his foot, or kicked him, or something.

“Ed would never cheat, c’mon.”

“I highly doubt Edward would be unfaithful to you.” Riza provided the final word on the topic.

“It does feel like he’s hiding something, though. He has that guilty look, and he keeps getting more and more quiet.” Everyone present nodded, and Jean was probably nodding on his end too. Ed’s guilty look had been infamous among Roy’s company when he was in the military.

“Is he having a hard time at work?”

“That’s what he’s been saying, but he has a great job and he never complains about anything particular.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Seems like it’s been the past three or so weeks. He has bad dreams, too. Not the usual ones, though. These ones he won’t tell me about. He doesn’t say anyone’s names but mine in his sleep anymore.”

“He talks in his sleep?”

“ _ Not the point. _ ” Roy was prepared to be as defensive as he needed to be. Nobody knew better than him what Ed had been through, except his brother.

The discussion continued, with his coworkers (and Havoc) throwing out suggestions and Roy dismissing them. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t the usual relationship stuff. There  _ had  _ to be another way to figure this out.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

_ Day 21 _

Ed was packing up for work when a letter arrived. Roy had just left, it had been another quiet morning. It was almost a routine at this point: get up, act extremely fucking awkward with Roy, wish him a good day at work, receive a cryptic and threatening letter.  _ This is beyond awful _ , Ed had told himself several times. He  _ needed _ to sort this thing out, and find a way to make it up to Roy. 

What could he do? Send flowers to his office with a “sorry for being shitty” card? Nope. Candle-lit dinner? Not his style. Roy did seem to like those, though, and Ed made a mental note that once this was over he owed his boyfriend at least three cheesy romantic gestures. Once this was over. 

He took a deep breath before opening the envelope. There were deep bags under his eyes, and he jumped at everything. Like a little kid in a haunted house. Roy definitely knew something was going on, and was probably nervous to bring it up. He had doubtlessly had conversations at work about it.

“ _ Brace yourself. _ ” What the hell kind of threat was that? The messages had been becoming more and more mysterious, possibly because the sender had run out of dirt on him and Roy. There was certainly a lot of material, but not an infinite supply.

This meant, though, that if this stalker was going to do something, he was going to do it soon. What did he even  _ want _ ? Ed slammed the door behind him.

Ed tried to come up with motives on the way to work, during work, on the way home. Nothing fit. As far as he could tell there was nobody that had any real interest in seeing him suffer. Nobody who had access to this kind of information, either. And yet, he was still receiving threats in the mail, and was still completely freaking out about it. He hated how it had consumed his whole life so quickly.

\--

Roy was home when Ed got back, and he looked like he had turned the apartment upside down. He was on the couch, and it seemed to be the only spot a person could sit comfortably, or even at all. 

“What’s this? Spring cleaning was a few months ago.” Ed dropped his bag next to the door, and it fell on a jacket and a couple of papers.

“Don’t be a smartass.” Roy looked angry. This was the most they had talked in  _ days _ , and it was not the sort of conversation Ed wanted. Things were only going to get worse, he could tell. Dread settled in his stomach, an uncomfortably familiar feeling.

“Actually, though, what happened here? We don’t get tornadoes in Central, especially not the indoor kind.”

“You won’t tell me what’s going on, Ed, so I figured I would look for myself.”

Ed’s heart dropped. “And...what did you find?”

“I’ve got nothing. There is  _ no reason _ for you to be acting the way you are.” So Roy hadn’t found the box.

“Oh, I’m acting funny?”

“ _ Yes _ , Ed, you are. Don’t play stupid with me.”

“I’ve told you, it’s just work. I’m fine.” The same two excuses, over and over. It was a mechanical, automatic response.  _ Just work. I’m fine. _ Yeah,  _ right _ .

It was obviously not what Roy wanted to hear. Ed could hardly blame him, he was lying through his teeth and of course Roy could tell. 

Ed continued to stay where he was, next to the front door, while Roy stood up and carefully paced around, stepping over and to the side of seemingly everything Ed owned. Except, of course, for the box at the bottom of the closet.

“Roy-”

Roy was suddenly standing very close.

“Edward.  _ What _ is going  _ on _ ?”

Ed was suddenly back in the military, Roy was his commanding officer. It was no wonder he was considered such a formidable figure by those who worked with him. He was imposing and in charge, towering over Ed with that fiery  _ Roy Mustang  _ look on his face. In another context, it would have been extremely attractive.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, Roy.” Ed scowled, and the picture was complete. All Ed needed was an automail arm, a red jacket, and a silver pocket watch.

“ _ What _ ’s nothing you can’t handle?”

Ed sighed deeply. He could probably get away with telling part of the truth. Not the whole thing, of course. “I…it’s…” Damn, this was hard.

“It’s  _ what. _ ” Roy moved closer, and Ed took a step back. This was a scene from years ago, with Ed having his own reasons for keeping the truth from Roy and Roy demanding every bit of information. It was almost a good feeling: Roy wanted information from Ed to keep Ed safe, he  _ wanted _ to keep Ed safe, he  _ cared _ . 

Ed sighed. “I got a couple letters a few weeks ago, and they implicated me in some things that very few people know about.” He started pacing as Roy had been doing, careful where he stepped. Calculating.

“Is this ongoing?”

“The letters stopped, and I never got any kind of follow-up or anything. It just seems like a random person showing off that they knew shit about me for no reason.”  _ Why did he lie? _ Ed couldn’t name a reason why he hadn’t told the truth.

Roy frowned. “Why do you think they sent you the letters?” He made his way back to the couch to sit leaning forward, with his elbows on his knees and his fingers knit together.

“I have no idea. But they’ve stopped, and I burned ‘em. I think it’s over. I just didn’t want you to worry, and since it turned out to be nothin’ I decided it would be better if you didn’t know.”

“And that’s what’s been making you act so weird?”

“Yeah. At first I was worried the letters were some kind of threat, and then I was worried you would be mad I didn’t tell you. Roy, I’m so sorry.” Ed felt infinitely better for half a second, but once Roy wrapped him up in his embrace, the guilt settled in. 

At least some of the truth was out, but the letters were most definitely some kind of threat, contained information about Roy as well, and had certainly not stopped coming.  _ Fuck, _ he should’ve just told the whole truth. Why did he have to keep lying?

\--

Roy wasn’t even mad. He was almost  _ too _ understanding, in Ed’s opinion, but things were better between them than they had been in weeks. They smiled, they  _ laughed _ , and everything was normal. 

For a while, at least, it was as though there was nothing wrong. Ed cooked dinner, some kind of pasta experiment that Roy seemed to like, and they talked about nothing in particular. The entire letter ordeal seemed to be behind them.

The topic came up again as they were doing dishes, Ed scrubbing furiously with a worn-down brillo pad and Roy drying and stacking. “So you never got any kind of follow-up?”

“Hm?”

“On the letters. They just stopped?”

“Um. Yeah.” Ed almost dropped the plate he was holding.

“Weird. I’ll have the office look into it.” Roy seemed almost too casual about it, especially if he were fully realizing the level of detailed information that was included in the letters. Maybe it was a kind of seeing-is-believing thing.

“N-no, don’t worry about it. Plus, I burned it all.” Ed was trying to remember exactly what he’d told Roy. “Nothing they can really do.”

They moved on. Ed began to realize that Roy wasn’t pushing because he was relieved, and on that point Ed could hardly blame him. Hopefully it never went further than that.

That night Roy fell asleep almost immediately, soundly, taking up most of the blankets as usual.  _ Bastard. _ Ed watched his chest move up and down rhythmically. Everything was good.

Only, it wasn’t. The closet door was still slightly ajar, though they had picked up most of the apartment after Hurricane Mustang had blown through. Almost hard to believe it was the same day. And Ed still couldn’t rest easy, thoughts of a box in a closet weighing heavily on his conscience, and the letters in the box filling him with dread.

#  ****


End file.
